


FaceTime

by Duckay



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Comedy of Errors, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckay/pseuds/Duckay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Seth are on opposite sides of the world, and miss each other. But they do both have smartphones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FaceTime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neffectual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/gifts).



> It's sort of goofy, sort of smutty. Came up with the idea while trying to Skype with my phone while it kept dropping out on me midsentence. Good times.
> 
> Feel free to find me on Tumblr! Proceduralbob

_I miss you._

Seth tapped out the message on his phone and hit send before he had time to think about it. He buried his head in his pillow, not particularly expecting a reply. Not until he had already fallen asleep, anyway. He wasn’t sure what the time difference was, but he figured it was unhelpful.

The vibration of the phone against his chest just as he felt like he was dozing off startled him.

_:)_

That didn’t seem like a response worthy of waking him back up, and he was in the process of tapping out a reply to that effect when the message screen was replaced with a picture of his boyfriend’s face and the large words:

**Dean Ambrose**  
**would like FaceTime**

The video feed stuttered over Dean’s image. Seth’s lip curled into a soft, affectionate smile. Dean’s eyes were still half-closed, his head still on the pillow, and his phone was clearly tilted to one side like he wasn’t quite sure where his face was. As the video started to flow a little more smoothly, Dean cracked a smile of his own.

“Hi, baby.” Dean’s voice was thick with sleep, and Seth saw one hand enter frame and rumple his hair carelessly.

“Hi,” Seth said softly, not quite sure what else to add. Dean was usually like that in the morning before he got out of bed, no matter how long that took. Once he was on his feet it was usually an improvement, but he tended to look on the brink of falling asleep again until his feet touched the floor.

The camera moved up. Dean was still wrapped in the hotel sheets up to his chest, laying on his back, but didn’t seem to wearing anything underneath. No shirt in any case. “I miss you too. Wish you were here,” he said softly, and for a moment Seth’s heart soared.

Dean rolled over onto his side, the camera coming with him. More or less. Seth squinted. “Dean, could you -”

“What’s wrong?”

“All I can see is the lamp behind you.”

The image was jittering like a found-footage horror movie. Once the lamp was out of frame and Seth could discern something other than just light in the video, he cracked an almost pitying smile. Dean was still not centred in the screen, and now he was backlit by the lamp, hair hanging in his eyes and pouting slightly like he didn’t understand what was going wrong.

Seth adjusted his own position in bed, propping his phone up on his bent knee and sitting up a little. “I - I wish I was there too. For a lot of reasons.”

There was only the tiniest trace of bitterness in his voice, but Dean didn’t seem to have noticed. He was fidgeting with his hair, pulling at it this way and that while scowling at what Seth assumed to be the feed of himself in the bottom corner. Eventually, when he still got no response, Seth ventured, “Dean?”

“It won’t stay out of my face, Sethie.”

Seth couldn’t have choked back the laugh that struck him if he had tried. Dean’s voice sounded so pitiful, like everything had gone wrong and the hair in his eyes was the last straw. It wasn’t all that unusual for Dean to be extra whiny while he was sleepy, and he always seemed utterly baffled by how to communicate with technology. Dean frowned at the laugh, batting one hand at the phone screen awkwardly.

“I can see that. You look like a badly lit mop.”

“Fuck off.”

“In a gas station closet.”

Dean sat up, the camera trailing up the wall behind him before settling on his face again. His pout had given way to a sort of wicked smile. “Do you really wanna talk about being in the closet?”

Seth laughed at that too, though a little more uneasily. The wickedness in Dean’s face faded to a sort of affection, then to frantic confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He began to ask, just as the camera dropped to below Dean’s chin, and he heard slightly garbled sounds that he’d become extraordinarily used to; the sounds of his boyfriend struggling with technology.

“Seth? I don’t know what’s going on! What’s it --”

It cut out as the call dropped.

Seth sighed, dropping his phone to his side and staring up at that ceiling again. It had been nice while it lasted, but…

**Dean Ambrose**  
**would like FaceTime**

When the call reconnected, Dean was sitting upright against the headboard, mirroring Seth’s position from several timezones away. That would have been kind of a sweet thought, had he not immediately launched into a filthy tirade about smartphones and hotel wifi. The phone didn't stay still in his hand for more than a second at a time, and the effect was starting to make Seth feel seasick.

When Dean paused for breath, Seth leapt in. “Can you sit still for even a minute straight?”

Dean shot him a look. “Come on, I'm trying to improve your night, here.”

Seth shuffled his position again, bringing the phone a little closer, as though that was supposed to bring Dean closer too. “So improve it.”

This, at least, earned a smile. “I wish you were here with me. The bed’s all cold without you.”

“Really?”

Dean glanced down, away from the phone, tilting the camera absently and giving Seth a clear shot up his nostril. “Nah, it's pretty comfortable, really.”

Seth huffed quietly at that, but Dean centred his face on the screen again, eyes twinkling cheekily. His bare chest and shoulders were also in frame now, which was kind of nice. “It’d be better if you were here too, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Fuck you through the mattress, make housekeeping earn the tip.”

Dean said it casually, like he was talking about going for a beer, like he was completely unaware of the effect it would have on Seth. Seth tried to spout something clever in response, but his mouth had gone dry and all he could manage was, “Yeah?”

“You know I would. Can't wait to have you under me again. Make you scream until whoever’s in the room next door calls to complain about us.”

That probably wasn't the sexiest way to make the point, but Seth’s dick was getting the message loud and clear. Just looking at Dean, with his stupid bed hair, was kind of stirring things in him, but to hear the filth dripping from his mouth…

“Are you touching yourself already?” Dean demanded suddenly, and Seth fumbled the phone a little.

“What do you mean?” He asked, a little guiltily.

“The phone moved, you jiggled the camera.”

It seemed like such an absurd comment from Dean that Seth couldn't curb the laugh. “Are you kidding me? You probably don't even know what a still picture looks like.”

Dean snorted a little, but did not address the point. “Well, were you?”

“Like you weren't waiting for me to start, talking like that.”

Dean pouted a little, again, but didn't argue the point. Instead, he just said softly, “You could at least have the decency to tell me about it.”

Seth smiled as he dropped his hand to his lap. “Alright, yeah. You got me interested.” He wrapped the hand that wasn't holding the phone around his cock, just sliding up and down a couple of times. “I can't wait to kiss you again.”

“Oh please,” Dean said, and judging from the way the camera shifted and his shoulder moved, he had started stroking himself too. “You don't want to be kissed. You want to be -”

He was cut off as the phone beeped and the call dropped out again.

Seth hissed through his teeth and buried his face in his pillow. God. Fucking. Damn.

His phone buzzed again, and he picked it up eagerly, expecting another call, but a string of texts came through instead.

_FUCK_  
_Hejdksland_  
_Wopajdoskq_  
_Smirks_  
_wait that was autocorrect_  
_skdidi_  
_I tried to call u back but it won't work_

The anger at the call dropping just as things were starting to get good faded away and was replaced by laughter. He buried his face still deeper in the pillow, not looking up even as his phone buzzed a few more times. His erection was gone, but Dean apologising for an autocorrect in the middle of an angry tirade about being interrupted mid-sex chat had probably been worth losing the sleep.

Once he had composed himself, he picked up his phone again. The screen was full of still more nonsense text, and for some reason, an emoji of a building. Finally, he texted back.

_Are you okay Dean_

_No I'm not ducking ok_  
_The phone is doing a thing and I don't know what it is_

_It's cool man we’ll talk later_

_but I want to jerk off NOW_  
_you know what fuck you Seth_  
_Fuck you and fuck the wife_  
_Wifi_  
_don't have a wife_

Entertaining as it was to read Dean’s flipping out over the phone, Seth had to admit that it would be awfully nice to finish what they started, so he tried to start another call.

When Dean answered, he looked sort of sheepish. Seth didn't ask why.

He couldn't let the events go entirely unremarked upon, though. “Doing a thing that you don't understand is always what your phone is doing.”

“It dropped the call and wouldn't call back,” Dean grumbled, but he settled back into position with a roll of his shoulders. “Alright, baby. Let's get back to it before it drops out again.”

“Oh, that's sexy,” Seth rolled his eyes as he spoke. Dean scoffed a little, but made no effort to improve the state of his dirty talk. “Go on, then,” Seth prompted, after a moment. “Tell me more.”

“I - oh, I don't know. I'm just so mad about the phone now.”

Seth shrugged. “Jerk yourself off,” he suggested softly.

It looked for a moment like Dean was about to protest, but judging from the shift in his shoulder and his upper arm, he had decided instead to be obedient. At first he still looked sort of grumpy, but then he closed his eyes and flicked his tongue out over his bottom lip. The phone camera drifted a little bit, so only the side of his face was in shot.

In some ways, Seth begrudgingly admitted it was sort of hot, that Dean was apparently so into his own hand, but he had also had enough of technology standing between them.

“Dean, eyes open. I can't even see you anymore.”

Dean’s eyes opened suddenly, like he'd been startled, and the camera jerked back so Dean's face was actually back in frame. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I wasn't thinking.”

“You are so terrible at this. Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“Not if you tell me I'm terrible!” Dean was plainly trying his best to sound indignant, but he was smiling widely.

Seth crept his hand back down his body in preparation. “Alright, I'm sorry I said you were terrible. Tell me what you want to do to me.”

It took a little while for Dean to say anything, but Seth could see that he looked thoughtful. Probably trying to think of how to best phrase something, or to think of something sexy. “Just thinking about what I'll do to you when I see you again,” he started slowly, his eyes wide. “Think you'll be so happy to see me that you'll suck me off before you even kiss me hello. Don't worry though, baby, I'll return the favour. I'll be on my knees for you so fast your head will spin.”

He lifted up the phone, then, his head tilting back and the camera pointing down at him from arm’s length. Dean looked stunning from that angle. “If I do this it’s kinda like I'm about to do it. Just ready and eager for your cock, baby.”

A soft moan fell from Seth’s lips. He stroked himself a little faster, and just nodded, not trusting himself with words.

“I know how you like it, you'll be digging your hands in my hair and begging me to keep going from the first touch.”

“Yeah,” Seth whispered, a little hoarsely.

“And then,” Dean went on, though his breathing was becoming a little erratic, “you'll think we’re done but I'll just scoop you up and take you to bed for round two. Finger your pretty ass until it's ready for me, watch you squirm underneath me, and then just fuck you until - you’re -”

The rest of the sentence was lost as Dean dropped his phone onto the bed beside him. Seth could hear him moan, a little distantly. Seth hadn't been especially close, but that sound hurried things along, and he was on the edge when he saw Dean pick up the phone again.

“Come, baby,” Dean murmured to him through the phone, and Seth did as instructed, biting his lower lip as he spilled over his hand.

He didn't say anything for a long moment, just breathing heavily and looking into Dean's eyes through his phone like he was afraid he might not get another chance.

Just as he thought he might have found some words, the call disconnected again.

Seth threw his phone on the bed in disgust and reached to the bedside for some tissue to clean up with. By the time he finished and threw the handful into the bin, he'd received another text.

_fuck phones for real_  
_Gonna go shower anyway see u when I get back_

  
_Still miss you._

There was no reply to that before Seth fell asleep. When he woke up the following morning, there was only one text waiting for him.

_< 3_

 


End file.
